Fate
by Kessie
Summary: Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant. (Sequel to Spero melior)
1. Chapter 1

**Fate**

Authors: Kessie  
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock, Sally, Mycroft. John, Anthea, Lestrade, OCs Sherlock/John, Sally/Mycroft  
Rating: R I think  
Status: still writing  
Warnings: Warnings for possible mentions of non con and violence. Mention of Child abuse! ( see rating!) And language of course. Its Donovan. Lots of drama, but also some silliness…  
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC, ACD, Moffat and Gatiss. No copyright infringement intended.  
Summary: Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant.

**Chapter 1**

When Sally woke up, London was already running full force. She could hear the cars outside, the walkers passing by and the occasional yell or screech. Her flat though was entirely silent, which wouldn´t have been that surprising had she been alone.

But as she wasn´t and given the companion she was with, it was actually a surprise.

Sherlock Holmes, mostly an annoying bugger but more recently one of her friends, was lying across the bed from her, still completely dressed in his favorite lilac shirt and black pants. She had insisted that he take off his shoes though and that she was glad for now as his feet were tangled in the blankets she had thrown over him.

Sherlock was still fast asleep and for a change he looked peaceful and entirely too young for Sally´s taste. Yet she smiled at the sight and rose carefully so that she wouldn´t disturb him, as the detective could always use all the sleep he could get.

As she wandered off to the kitchen to make breakfast, she mused about last night. It had been a long day anyway and Sally had only been home for a few hours when Sherlock had appeared at her door step. John was at a doctor´s conference for this week, something he already had booked when he had still believed Sherlock was dead and so the consulting detective was alone at 221b. Given that he had helped them with a particularly bad case last night where a father had murdered his own six year old child and tried to cover it up, Sally hadn´t been surprised when Sherlock had shown up at 4 am.

Sherlock would never admit it, but children´s cases did get to him.

Nearly every time.

And normally she wouldn´t have noticed as he was good about covering his emotions, but since their meeting with Sergej and the resulting chaos she had learned to read the signs.

So yes, Sherlock coming to her apartment had been expected.

Hell, she had tried to take him home after they had arrested the father, but Sherlock in his typical manner had shrugged it off and vanished soon thereafter.

Bloody idiot.

And then he had shown up again in the middle of the night to tell her important, not being able to wait „news" about the cold Simmers case Lestrade had given him.

Not that Mrs. Simmers hadn´t been dead for 10 years, but Sally had made him lie down, citing she was tired and wouldn´t leave her bed. Sherlock had complied and talked about his Simmers theory, even though it probably had been the violent death of the little boy which brought him here. And with that he had slowly babbled himself to sleep.

So yes , Mission accomplished. Even better than imagined because Sherlock had at least learned to call before he let himself in.

Last time she had nearly clobbered him with a vase when he walked into her darkened room.

Little steps in the right direction at least, it seemed.

As was his coming to her when there was what Mycroft would call a „danger night". Sally smiled at that, remembering the older brother.

Mycroft was out of the country as well, government business as always and she couldn´t help but miss him already. It was weird. If somebody would have told her that she would have fallen in love with a Holmes she would have run. Hell, probably she would have hit the guy suggesting it.

But strangely it had happened relatively fast after she had gotten to know Mycroft, which was even weirder given the thought that the older man allowed him even less emotions than Sherlock.

And yet it worked.

They had taken it slow for a while, but since last week they had started to swap not so innocent kisses.

Sherlock had grumbled when he had deduced what was going on but otherwise not commented. Which was probably better cause she would have kicked his ass.

She ate quickly and finished with her scones and eggs for breakfast and dressed as she had to be at the Yard in half an hour.

As she went back into her bedroom, her friend was still fast asleep on her bed. Or he was at least feigning it, because she could detect tiny movements across his face now.

„I´m off to work." She whispered. „There´s egg and some scones for you left. Eat it, yeah? Cause I´ll know if you throw it into the bin."

The consulting detective just glared at her for a second, before he closed his eyes again, apparently still completely content in her bed. Sally smiled at that. Someone had once told her that it took trust for someone to sleep in your presence and they were right about that.

The fact that Sherlock slept at her apartment without a problem showed that he trusted her. And that she was glad about.

Leaving the detective to himself as she was sure she would see him later anyway, she left for work.

#

The crack when her fist hit Sherlock`s nose seemed to make Sally Donovan grin. While everyone else in the room was staring at her with a mixture of disgust, uneasyness and a tiny bit surprise, the man on her right side seemed to be more in her favor.

„See, that was actually relieving, wasn´t it?" He smiled a particular fond smile at her and Sally nodded.

„Yeah, Freak finally got what he had coming all along."

Her companion laughed, while said Freak just glared at her. But Sally didn´t even seem to pay him further mind, as she already had turned away and was crossing to the other side of the room. That way, she didnt even see the agents who led the cuffed and now bleeding Sherlock away.

„You coming?" She beamed at the man, who had been holding Sherlock for her and the man just smiled and followed her.

################################################## ############################

So this is more a test if anyone wants to read a sequel to "Spero melior". I don´t have much time these days so it would take a while. Or if anyone wants to write with me, I would be glad, cause I have lots of ideas and love to be creative together.

So Co-authors definitely wanted! ;-)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

John Watson had on been his way home when Mycroft´s call came. He had just sat down in the back of a cab and was about to tell the driver to go to 221b, but after the call he had to change directions. Sighing he braced himself for even more work. It was the day before Christmas for gods sake! He´d just flown in from a doctors conference in Brussels and all he really wanted to do was to go home and fall into bed. Preferably with Sherlock.

If he got the hyperactive git into it to sleep that is.

Nevertheless he was really looking forward to see his boyfriend again, although it was still a bit weird to think of him in these terms. But the last few months had changed a lot. Hell, back when he had booked this conference he hadn´t even know that the consulting detective was still alive. And then suddenly Donavan had been missing and after that everything had gotten all weird.

But he wasn´t complaining. The things how they were now with Sherlock being alive and starting to build a slow but steady relationship with him, the consulting detective being friends with Donavan of all people, who seemed to be falling in love with Mycroft: that was as happy as he could ever been. Something which he hadn't even dared to hope after Sherlock`s death.

So no, he wouldn´t complain about Mycroft calling them all in the afternoon before christmas. Well, and thing was, he knew the older Holmes brother probably didn't like it as well, as he had just arrived from a meeting in Italy, and was looking foward to taking Sally out to dinner.

So yep. No complaining, he reminded himself while he paid the driver and then walked into the plain looking building, which he now knew was home to a secret base of the MI6. Well, the perks of knowing Mycroft. You got to know things that you really didn't want to know.

But it also meant that there were useful things as well. Thanks to the endless resources of Mycroft and his government men they had news about Moriarty´s henchmen. Which was actually the reason he was here now.

Sherlock had believed that he had eliminated all of them. But according to Mycroft´s call he apparently had missed someone, which Mycroft had brought down in Italy. That had been the first reason, but the second and more important one, was that one of Mycroft`s bosses seemed to need his and Sherlock`s and the Yarder´s help. Them working as a team now actually led to even more cases being cleared and apparently even government officials had heard about that. That or Mycroft had offered them as a tip, John suspected.

Nevertheless he couldn´t help but feel a bit proud on how far they had come. Although the timing for this meeting was impeccable.

Arriving on the second floor where he was supposed to meet Mycroft and the others, he saw Anderson and Lestrade first. Both seemed to be as tired as he probably looked himself, as they clung to a cup of coffee like it was some kind of life line.

„Inspector, Anderson." he nodded at them and got a nod in return, while Lestrade pointed him to follow them.

„Long night?" John asked and Lestrade all but groaned.

„Yeah, you have no idea." the inspector admitted and opened the door to a room.

Inside a grumbling Donovan was the first thing John noticed. And of course he noticed the one she was grumbling at: Sherlock.

„You took evidence again. Damn it Sherlock!" Donovan was close to shouting now, but of course John´s flatmate was less than impressed. Not that this surprised John in the least. Ignoring the two quarrellers he went over to Mycroft, who had been joined by Greg and Anderson. Best to stay out of this when these two were having it on.

While Sherlock and Donovan argued John got himself a cup of coffee and waited with the others for Mycroft´s boss.

Just as Donovan and Sherlock had gotten so loud that probably the entire building could hear them, the door opened, and Simpson, one of the even higher ups as Mycroft had called them, came in. With him was one whom John assumed to be his assistant- a rather lanky, tall, dark haired guy in his thirties who immediately went over to the two quarrellers. Sherlock probably saw him coming and took off before he came to close but the man started to talk to Donovan, while Sherlock came over to John.

„So you two had enough of a quarrel?" He asked Sherlock, but didn't get an answer as the consulting detective seemed to be distracted, all but staring at the assistant and Donovan, who both now left the room. „Which evidence did you take this time? You know, Sally can loose her job about this. And... Sherlock?"

Only now he realized his friend wasn´t listening to him any longer and instead was watching the door. Something seemed off. He was sure of it. „Is everything all right?"

„What? Yes, of course!" Sherlock exclaimed and went over to the table where the others had sat down, making John even more uneasy. What the hell?

Just as he wanted to ask Sherlock again, Sally came back into the room, carrying a bunch of files. „Mr. Norman will be in a few minutes, he got a call just as we were in the corridor." With that she settled down as well and Mr. Simpson nodded.

„That´s okay. I believe we can start already without him. Most of you are wondering anyway why you have been called here. First off, I wanted to thank you for you cooperation last week. Given the dire circumstances I was glad we encountered such competent officers."

Now John understood. Of course! Last week Lestrade and the Yarders had been called to a rather grisly murder where the victim had been tortured to death in an abandoned house. They had gotten the call, just as they were about to head back from another case, where Lestrade had called Sherlock in and so they had tagged along.

In the end the victim had turned out to be one of Mycroft's men. As far as Sherlock could tell he had been tortured to death, probably someone wanted to get some information. But according to the detective, the victim had taken his secret to the grave, whatever it was

„Just look at the wounds. They get deeper and more sluggish, the newer they are. And the slash in his throat, the one which killed him, was done in deepest anger. Our killer was desperate."

John guessed the evidence had probably supported Sherlock`s theory, as the case had been taken over by Mycroft's men soon thereafter. Yet they were here, so they must have done something right.

Just as Mr. Simpson had stopped thanking them and was about to go on, the door opened and Mr. Norman, the assistant, entered again, looking rather excited.

„I´m sorry to intrude like that, Mr. Simpson, but there have been new developments." he said, out of breath and Mr. Simpson simply nodded at his subordinate to go on. „The DNA of the hair found in the throat wound has been identified." He turned, opening the door another time, revealing men clad in dark suites behind him, which immediately entered the room.

Then Mr. Norman turned to Sherlock. „Sherlock Holmes, you are under arrest for the murder of agent Arthur Schapely."

############

Thanks to everyone who commented, it really keeps me writing.

Also thanks again to Sevenpercent for beta reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It took only an instant to lead Sherlock out of the room it seemed, and John had barely a chance to stop it. What the hell had just happened? Sherlock, a killer? That couldn´t be true.

Especially since the poor guy had been tortured as well and been killed in a particular gruesome way.

Cause even if, John could only imagine Sherlock killing in self defence. Hell, honestly everyone was capable of that, they just had to be pushed far enough.

But killing in this cruel, cold blooded way, torturing a man to death?

Never!

He knew his friend, his lover, wasn´t capable of that. Self proclaimed sociopath or not.

Mycroft seemed to think the same, as he was proclaiming loudly. „These accusations are ridiculous. Why would my brother kill one of my men? He didn´t even know Arthur."

John wanted to nod and exclaim so as well, but it seemed Mr. Norman wouldn´t have any of it. „The evidence says otherwise I'm afraid. I think you understand we must at least investigate the possibility? If your brother is indeed innocent we will find out." He took a piece of paper from another black clad man who came in again and proceeded to show it to Mr. Simpson and Mycroft. „As you can see it matches his DNA and..."

A shrill tone of something which sounded like a bumblebee penetrated the room, and Donovan, who sitting next to Lestrade was looking at Mr. Norman´s evidence as well, looked rather apologetic. John would have laughed, if the situation wasn´t so dire. Even if Sherlock hadn´t stolen the evidence he and Sally had quarrelled about, he certainly had gotten her mobile and changed her ringtone again.

„I´m sorry I have to take this call. It´s the Yard." she said after she had taken out her phone and got up and walked to end of the room before she picked up. „What the...?" she exclaimed rather loudly but then got quieter again and listened. „No,I think there was a rumor that it was a hate crime. The

sister was said to hate her brother."

Probably about a case, John decided and tuned her out and listened to Mr. Norman once more, as the evidence was more important anyway. Donovan could handle the Yard. She bloody well worked there, he told himself and tried to focus. The situation and his lack of sleep seemed to only increase his worry, no reason to get paranoid.

But as the talking went on, the situation didn´t seem to get better. The evidence seemed genuine, no matter how many times John turned it in his head.

Then there was the fact that Sherlock hadn´t been at home when the murder had happened. Last Thursday they had helped Lestrade´s team with a case until midnight and John thought that Sherlock had gone somewhere with Donovan after that. But apparently that was wrong, as Sally, who had ended the call about two minutes ago, had proclaimed that she hadn´t seen the consulting detective after 0:15, just about when they had closed the case.

Damn it. He could have sworn that he had been at Sally´s, John cursed inwardly. Hadn´t the detective said something like that?

Nevertheless there wasn´t a chance for an alibi,it seemed.

Still he was certain that his flat mate would be proven innocent.

#

Mr. Simpson had just announced that they were all to be questioned separately about the day of the murder and the day when they had found the body as another man clad in black came in again. He went over to Mr. Norman, spoke to him privately and gave him another envelope.

John felt uneasy as Mr. Norman turned to them again. „It seems that there has been another murder. It's being processed right now, but they have found a hair in the victims throat wound again. Estimated time of death is 2:45 last night. Can anyone vouch for Mr. Holmes at this time?"

John held his breath. He knew Sherlock had helped the Yarders with a case until 1:30 but according to Sally had run off again until he turned up in her flat at 4 am. She had messaged him at both times, first to ask where the damn git could be and then to ease John´s worries.

„So you think the freak is responsible for this one as well?"

Donovan.

The freak? What the hell was going on here? He knew she called him freak from time to time but there was never malice behind it. But this tone right now, it sounded like he had travelled back in time for a few years to a time where the Sergeant and Sherlock still hated each other.

Or had something happened between 4 am and now? These two had quarrelled heavily when he came in after all.

„Yes, we have to take it into account. So I take it no one can vouch for him?"

Slience. Then Donovan again. „He was with Lestrade, Anderson and myself at a case until 1:30 last night, but after that no idea. Dr. Watson wasn´t with him. Freak said he had a doctors conference, right John?"

John just nodded and looked around. Anderson and Lestrade seemed to be strangely silent, also watching Donovan, while Mycroft nodded as well.

„I have no idea either what my brother did last night, I´m afraid, but I can´t imagine him being a murderer. I want to see the evidence you have though."

#

Soon thereafter everyone was questioned individually about the murder nights. John was beyond tired and he could see it in Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan as well. He hadn´t seen Sherlock since he had been led from the room and he didn´t like that one bit. Given that he was with the MI6 he knew that if his friend was found guilty they could make sure that no one ever found him again. Sherlock had told him that much once, when they had spoken about Mycroft, and now he asked himself if Mycroft could make his brother vanish if he turned out to be a murderer.

Or maybe he would have to vanish him to not vanish himself? John shook his head. No. He was making himself mad. No one would be vanished. And Sherlock was no murderer.

He turned to the door again, where Donovan came in, just back from her questioning, still talking with Norman.

„You know, I had feared it for a while. He always seemed to enjoy the cases too much. Far too much." Donovan shook her head, probably not even realizing John was listening in. „ So I guess I´m not surprised. But I hadn´t thought he´d be that cruel. I should have said more sooner. I mean, I always tried to warn Lestrade and the others. And John even..." She sighed and now noticed that he was close and staring at her.

While Mr. Norman excused himself and went over to get Anderson, John walked over to her. „What the hell, Sally?" he whispered, but she shrugged.

„I warned you John. And hell, I tried. So hard. But in the end, he´s really just a psychopath." She turned around to get away, but John caught her wrist and tugged her closer again.

„What happened Sally. Tell me. There´s no way that.."

She looked uneasy for a second, than took a deep breath as if to calm herself down, yet her face showed definite anger. „ Well if you want to know it that bad. He´s responsible. He made sure I didn´t get that unborn child I was pregnant with."

Time stopped. Or at least it was like it seemed to John. He let go of Sally´s wrist, who took that as a cue to get away. He heard Anderson gasp as he heard Sally´s admission, just as he and Mr. Norman were just about to leave the room. He saw Lestrade, coffee cup half raised, mouth agape in shock, looking at Sally, but not daring to walk over to her.

And he noticed Mycroft, who looked impeccable as always, as if this had nothing to do with him. Not that he could have shown anything, he supposed, as his superiors like Simpson probably didn´t have any ideas about his relationship with Donovan. The two men of the MI6 didn´t show any emotions as well, as did Mr. Norman, whom John had grown to hate due to the circumstances.

Inwardly he wanted to scream. But all John did was take a deep, long breath.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The evidence, as far as they could tell, as they sure as hell didn´t hear all about the cases they weren´t allowed to, seemed to pile up after that.

Apparently there was a witness who put Sherlock two streets away from the murder around 3 am yesterday. The hair in the wound of the second victim was one of Sherlock`s as well and while John tried to argue that Sherlock would never be as careless as to leave a hair behind, no one of the investigators seemed to believe him.

While he, Anderson, Donovan and Lestrade were still in the same room, waiting to be allowed to go home, Mycroft had long since left and was probably investigating on his own.

That left him and the others in an awkward silence after Donovan´s admission. He had tried to talk to her again soon after, but had been told off rather harshly and now no one dared to approach her. Well, he guessed Donovan was probably right, this was neither the time nor the place, but he still couldn´t wrap his head around it.

Sherlock would never...

Hell, it would have been the child of his brother, wouldn´t it?

What did he do anyway?

What had to happen that...

John´s thoughts were cut short as the door opened again and Mr. Simpson came back in, nodding at his men who had been watching them.

„If everyone would follow me." he announced and so they did and followed him into another room, where to John´s surprise Sherlock was seated in a chair, his hands bound in front of him by a pair of cuffs.

„He wanted to say goodbye and I thought I´d give him the opportunity." Mr. Simpson announced and Sherlock huffed.

„Well, I just wanted to tell John that I wouldn´t be home for dinner. And Lestrade, I´m sorry, but any more cases have to wait."

Greg just shook his head, not sure what to say, while John was incredulous. How could his flatmate stay that calm when everything looked that dire again? It was typical Sherlock but he wanted to tell him what he thought about that. Yet his flatmate had already turned to the other Yarders in the room.

He nodded at Anderson and got a nod in return, while Donovan seemed to be more straight forward.

„Freak."

„So you´re glad you finally have me where you wanted me?" he asked, looking at her sternly and John urged him to stop rolling his eyes.

„Not wanted, but it doesn´t surprise me, yes. I just want you to get what you deserve." Sally answered, equally rigid and challenging.

It was clear that there was no love lost between them anymore and once more John asked himself how the hell this could have happened. He just had been away for a week for gods sake!

„Well, I will, I guess." Sherlock answered, scratching the right side of his head rather calmly as if he wasn´t hurting his cuffed hands with this movement and as if he was watching a film or something calming like that. Then he set his hands down again, fiddling for a second to get the cuff further down to the wrist again to make it hurt less. „Now, if you´ll excuse me. I have a cell waiting for me."

Sally just huffed and turned around while Mr. Simpson went out into the corridor already.

„Goodbye Sally. Maybe Norman here is a match for you? I heard he likes them on his knees." That made Donovan stop and John himself had to fight the urge to slap his flatmate. What the hell was up with these two? They acted like children in kindergarten.

Norman didn´t look too amused either and being close to Sherlock he actually grabbed him. „You know if you want to actually hit him, everyone in this room would understand." He mused.

Sally though, seemed to be reluctant, which didn´t surpise John. She normally wasn´t someone who got physical. It took a lot to get her to do that.

Then again...

„Ah no. She´s all about procedure I´m afraid. Far too scared to do something on her own. No surprise there." Sherlock was smiling while fiddling with his hands. He was too sure of himself and it even annoyed John, friend or not. The whole room seemed to glare at him.

Donovan probably had enough as well as she walked over and struck.

Hard.

The crack when her fist hit Sherlock`s nose seemed to make Sally Donovan grin. While everyone else in the room was staring at her with a mixture of disgust, uneasyness and a tiny bit of surprise, the man on her right side seemed to be more in her favor.

„See, that was actually relieving, wasn´t it?" He smiled a particular fond smile at her and Sally nodded.

„Yeah, Freak finally got what he had coming all along."

Her companion laughed, while said Freak just glared at her. But Sally didn´t even seem to pay him further mind, as she already had turned away and was crossing to the other side of the room. That way, she didnt even see the agents who led the cuffed and now bleeding Sherlock away.

„You coming?" She beamed at the man, who had been holding Sherlock for her and the man just smiled and followed her.

John and the others were urged to follow her and Norman as well and John tried to shake what he had just seen. There was something wrong here. The woman in front of him couldn´t be Sally Donovan. He was sure of it.

Then again Sherlock acted like he was nuts as well. His head was actually hurting now and he cursed himself for agreeing to go to the conference. What the hell had happened that all went that wrong when he had been away?

„You know you won´t get anything out of him anyway." That was Sally again and John fought the urge to scream at her or worse, hit her, damn his headache. Yes, he did get she hated him again. He even did get why, thank you very much.

But still. Saying something like that here wasn´t a nice thing to do.

„Oh, don´t worry Mrs. Donovan. We have our methods, haven´t we?" Mr. Norman declared and smiled that John felt a shiver run down his spine. The man was enjoying this no doubt, and while Mr. Simpson just smiled and nodded encouragingly, John fought his urge to grab Sherlock, throw him over his shoulder and take him with him.

#

Sally Donovan was pissed.

Pissed at life never running smooth. Pissed at the god damn system. At the MI6 for being that bland, at Mycroft for not seeing this before or rather, too late. And at Sherlock for just sitting there, as if he wasn´t in any kind of danger and even more because he dared to bait her to get physical.

But most importantly she was damn pissed at the supposed Mr. Norman.

Fucking asswipe of a man. How dare he come and do something like this so close to Christmas? Hell, how dare and come at them anyway? She didn´t care about time and day!

She fought the urge once more to simply kick the guy in the balls, knowing well she couldn´t do this at the moment, with all the agents watching her. So she settled for challenging all her inner anger and her courage to play her role better and told him that he wasn´t going to get anything out of Sherlock anyway.

Which he wasn´t. She firmly believed that. Whatever he wanted with their freak, he wouldn´t give it to him. He might as well stop trying.

Sadly it didn´t seem to have the desired effect. Instead the man smiled and gave Sally a flashback she really didn´t need at the moment.

###########

_How Mycroft had known she was at Sherlock`s that day she could only guess, but she suspected the CCTV. _

_Or his men. Possibily both. _

_Although she didn´t care, it wasn´t like he was following her to get her or something. He simply came to get her for their date to dinner she had agreed to last Thursday. So Sally smiled at him as he entered 221b. Orgininally she had just driven Sherlock and John home after a case, but of course Sherlock had gotten her distracted with a experiment, that had gone critical and become downright dangerous, and now she was late. In normal relationships she now would have tried to phone the poor man she hadn´t forgotten on purpose, but being together with a minor part of the british government had it´s perks and meant Mycroft already knew. Hell, she still suspected he had cameras at Sherlock´s apartment although he always assured them otherwise, so he probably had watched the whole panic when they tried to keep Sherlock`s experiment from exploding. _

_Sherlock though didn´t seem to be that happy to see his brother as he simply glared at him. _

„_Ah so you took a break from water boarding the latest prisoner, I see?" he announced casually, making Sally stop in her tracks and look at Mycroft. _

_He wasn´t really, was he? He never would... _

_But given his job? She couldn´t help but shudder. _

_What if Sherlock wasn´t having her on?_

_########################_

Sally still shuddered at the memory. She, to this day, had no idea if Sherlock had been kidding. She and Mycroft hadn´t talked about it, this thing far too heavy for anything like their 3rd date. And even though she wanted to, she hadn´t asked him after that.

Until now.

Though now this wasn´t the place either to ask her boyfriend causally if he ever had tortured anyone of the MI6´s suspects.

Nevertheless one thing she was sure of: the MI6 wasn´t Kindergarten. She didn´t believe for one second that they wouldn´t torture if they had to, be it by Mycroft´s hand or otherwise.

And therefore Sally became even more pissed.

Nobody.

Nobody would torture her friend and live to do it.

Not if she could help it.

################################################## ##

So you guys still reading? Any comments?


	5. Chapter 5

Heather Snow: Sorry if the jumps confused you. They were done deliberately as to confuse the reader somewhat and to make get more tension. Sorry if I didn´t succeed. But after this chapter the story will make more sense, I believe. Thanks for reading.

**Chapter 5**

_Earlier..._

_Sherlock Holmes had been close to loosing his countenance when he had been led out of the room after Norman´s announcement. Not only was that bastard alive and had infiltrated the MI6, no he even managed plant evidence against Sherlock in a murder. Not to mention the murder of an agent which the MI6 didn´t take too nicely to. That and he was worried about what the bastard had been doing with Donovan, something was going on there as well._

_But as of right now he was being led out by agents, who had guns and worse, poisoned needles for when he would try to flee, which meant he couldn´t help the others who were still the in the same room with the lunatic. _

„_Gentlemen, my men and me will handle Mr. Holmes now. The murder has been in our division anyway." a voice chirped and Sherlock nearly smiled but knew better not to. _

_Anthea. Of course. _

„_But Mr. Simpson said..." the man on his right started but didn´t get far._

„_Mr. Simpson has cleared that already, look." She showed her blackberry to the agent where he could look at said email and so Sherlock found himself being escorted by Anthea and Miller and George, two of Mycroft's men. _

_Just as they entered a free office on the third floor, the men went away and so he was alone with Anthea. _

„_Anthea, I need your phone. The man in the room downstairs is not Mr. Norman. His name is Sebastian Moran and he was the right hand of Moriarty." _

_He didn´t need to tell more, only a second later he was holding the phone, after having called Donovan´s number. _

_A click at the other end of the line showed that someone had answered the call and Sherlock didn´t _

_waste any second._

„_Sally."_

„_What the..."_

„_No, don´t say my name. Just listen. The man in the room with you is not Mr. Norman. His name is Sebastian Moran." _

_A deep intake of breath told him that Sally remembered the name from Sherlock`s stories._

„_Calm down. I need to know what he wanted with you. He clearly talked to you outside and you didn´t like it, I could tell when you came back in." _

_He could hear Sally walking away from the conversation in the room. _

_Then: „No, I think there was a rumor that it was a hate crime. The sister was said to hate her brother." Sally answered, voice admiringly steady and annoyed, as if she was dealing with an idiot of the Yard. _

_So Sebastian still thought Sally hated Sherlock? Interesting. _

„_Good. Then you play this role. And tell them you haven´t seen me the night of the murder. Make sure you, John, Lestrade and Anderson get out of here as soon as possible."_

„_But..."_

„_No but. You get out. My brother and I can take care of ourselves. The MI6 as well. Make sure you all get away from Moran. Anthea will get a safe house for you." _

_With that he ended the call, leaving Sally no room for protest. He already hated having her, John and the others only in the same room with Moran. Who knew what that bastard was planning. _

_Even though Sally and Anderson might be secure if Moran still believed they hated Sherlock, but best not to play with that. _

_He looked at Anthea, who had heard all of the conversation. The woman simply nodded. _

„_Already arranged. George and Miller are on their way to pick up Mrs. Hudson and Harry as we speak. Just a precaution." _

_Sherlock simply nodded. _

#

From the outside Sally might have appeared calm, but inside of her, her temper, her feelings, everything of her was raging. All her instincts seemed to scream at her not to leave her friend behind.

She could see the same in John, who seemed to sense as well that something was deeply wrong and felt for him. But Sherlock was right, he and Lestrade needed to be away from Norman, as they sure as well were in danger from him as well.

Her safety was another thing. As long as Norman believed that she had no sympathies for Sherlock, she would be safe. She was sure of it.

Seeing as Anthea was expecting them at the elevator Moran was leading them to, and remembering Sherlock`s words about the safe house, she knew she had to act now.

So she did the only thing she could think of: She stalled.

„Oh, damn, I believe I left my mobile in the room. How about you guys go ahead already? I´ll meet you at the Yard."

Without waiting for an answer, she turned around and walked back. It took only seconds until she had Anthea at her side, her hand on her shoulder, effectively stopping her. „Excuse me Miss, but I´m afraid that´s not possible. You can´t walk around here alone. Just wait until we assign someone to help you looking for your phone."

It was just when Mr. Norman appeared at her side, declaring that of course he „would gladly take some of his time to get her phone back" - just as Sally had expected really- that she felt Anthea slip something into her jaket.

Good, apparently Anthea had suspected she would do this. Sally silently thanked the heavens for the woman´s psychological training, even though it was scary that the woman often seemed to know her better than herself.

But that was not surprising as she worked with Mycroft, she supposed.

Nevertheless she still could tell that Anthea disapproved of her action right now. Yet she hadn´t really stopped Sally, which probably attested to the fact that she knew Sally wouldn´t give up and come to the safe house willingly.

Carefully she reached into her jacket while walking back to the room Sherlock was still in and found Anthea had given her some kind of … pen?

Further investigation showed that it was what she suspected: an epipen-like device, as they were often used by the guards of the MI6, as Anthea had told her for security reasons the first time she had visited Mycroft. They were designed to knock people out mostly, but apparently there were also some which killed instantly. Sally didn´t dare waste a thought about what Anthea had given her exactly. She would use that weapon, no matter the consequences.

Sherlock`s life probably depended on it.

The guy she hated the most right now, Mr. Norman or better Sebastian Moran, walked right alongside her as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Sally was glad that he seemed to not have noticed Anthea´s gift and would have loved to use it instantly but she knew better than that, given all the agents which were watching them.

To them Mr. Norman was still one of them. An agent, more important one which had accompanied one of the higher ups. If she attacked him on the spot without exposing him first with proof that he wasn´t one of them, she would only be one thing: a threat.

And threats were eliminated – especially at the place where she was right now.

It didn´t take long until they were back in the room in which they had left Sherlock and four MI6 men about 10 minutes ago. While Mr. Norman gallantly opened the door for her, pretending to be a true gentleman, Sally reached into her pocket and put her phone on speaker. Having called back the number Sherlock had called her from a few hours ago, she knew that Mycroft and Anthea would be listening in.

Hopefully she could make Moran make expose himself.

And hopefully Mycroft would make sure that some higher ups were listening in as well.

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Thanks for reading. Comments?


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

To say that Sherlock was pissed when he saw her, would have been an understatement. To the outside it seemed like he showed a bit of genuine surprise at seeing her again, but she knew him better now and could see his rage. The blood on his nose didn´t make the situation better either and Sally had to push away the thoughts that she had been the one to do this.

Had he really expected her to simply go and take the others to the safe house? She doubted it. He of all people should know that she wouldn´t let go as long as there was a friend in danger. Just like John, of whom she hoped was being contained by Mycroft and Anthea right now.

„Oh missed me already, Donovan?" Sherlock teased and Sally just huffed.

„No, never would miss you. Just my phone." She pretended to look around but couldn´t help but see Sherlock`s eyes narrowing. Nope, he definitely wasn´t pleased. There would be hell to pay later on.

And not just from him. Probably from Mycroft as well, as the brother had grown quite fond of her. She wasn´t just an idiot of the Yarders anymore, as Sherlock would say. She was a friend. And even more in Mycroft´s case.

Norman seemed to be watching for a second before turning to the guards who were there for Sherlock. „I think you can take him out of here. We can look for the phone in peace without his steady comments." The men immediately moved to get Sherlock, and Norman beamed. „There´s a cell with his name on it downstairs anyway- so off with him."

As all four of them went for Sherlock, Sally realized she soon would have the pleasure of being alone with Moran, if she didn´t do anything. Not that having Sherlock in an underground cell of the secret service was a better thing, she chided herself. To imagine what Moran could do him there with the blessing of the MI6, believing he was a murderer...

She shuddered.

Looking at Sherlock who was trying to do his best to shake off the men,but not with much success as four were just too much, and then at Norman alias Moran, she decided it was now or never. With a calm she didn´t think she´d possess, she walked over to Norman and came to stand directly in front of him.

„You know what? I think we shall quit playing games, shall we? What do you think Mr. Moran?"

The surprise which Sally saw on the man´s face then was genuine, even if it lasted only for a second.

„I don´t know what you are talking about."

Sally sighed.

„Sebastian Moran, 36 years old, follower of Jim Moriarty, the idiot who blew his brains out not too long ago. Did you really think you could fool me? Or anyone here for that matter?"

The men and Sherlock had stopped. Well, Sherlock was still struggling but the guards weren´t trying to remove him from the room any longer. They were all too transfixed by Sally´s admission. Everyone knew Jim Moriarty in this building and what he had done.

If this really was his right hand and this woman was right? Sally nearly laughed herself when she noticed the indecision in their faces.

Gripping the epipen in her pocket tightly she waited for Moran to attack or do anything. So far he was just staring at her, definitely not amused.

She also choose to ignore Sherlock`s warning „Sally!" which the consulting detective shouted. Yes, he did not like her baiting Moran like that, she could tell.

Well time for round two.

„See, it´s just that you are not even half as good as your former boss and he already was an idiot."

That did it. „Shut up. You have no right talking about him like that, you bitch. You are just sheep anyway, just like everyone else associated with him." Sebastian Moran actually spat looking at Sherlock and Sally was astonished how much the man´s demeanour had changed in a few seconds. While being Norman he seemed sneaky, yet still rather soft spoken, but in his true self his voice was much deeper, more outright cruel and cutting like the blade of a knife.

And he laughed like an outright maniac.

„It´s rather sad really. You´ll all suffer the same fate. The freak´ll destroy you one by one and sacrifice you in the blink of an eye." he stated before dissolving into more giggles , before he came even closer to her, so that his face was only centimeters away from Sally´s. „And to think that Jim and I thought about asking you to join us. Sally, I´m so dissapointed. You´re just a brainless idiot like everyone else. But that should have been no surprise really."

Inwardly Sally shuddered. Joining these monsters? Even back when she had hated Sherlock, she had never really wanted to harm him. Well at least not permanently, because sometimes she had literally wished to be able to kick his ass.

Merely there was no time to for this now, especially since said monster came even closer to her. Behind she heard Sherlock going nuts. „Let me go!" he was screaming at the men, but Sally already launched herself at Moran, epipen ready.

Only of course Moran had already anticiapted her move. Instead of complying and letting himself be knocked out with the epipen, he turned far too quickly for Sally´s liking and caught her by her throat, nearly choking her, before she could even get the epipen out of its hiding place. Therefore it fell back into her pocket while Sally tried to counter Moran immediately, kicking him in his shin, stomping on his foot and trying to get her elbows into his ribs, but it did nothing. She was secure in his choke hold, even close to being not able to move much, as he was about 15 centimeters bigger than her and much stronger.

She felt like a bug, which was lying on its back, legs desperately searching for leverage as it was close to being eaten and tried to mobilise all she had with the slowly dwindling air.

Moran though, didn´t seem to be bothered at all.

Until there was a well known "click" from behind them, followed by a well known voice.

"I wouldn´t do that if, I were you."

Sally actually laughed, but it probably sounded more like a dying caterpillar.

John.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Sally had no idea where the hell he had come from, because the only door of the room seemed to be close to Sherlock and the men who were right in front of them, but she couldn´t have cared less. Leave it to the doctor to make a secret entrance, she mused.

Moran though, seemed to be amused as well. "Ah Mr. Watson, here to do his dirty work again? It´s fascinating how the freak got you all under..."

He didn´t get much further because Sally had used his distraction to get the epipen and plunged in right into his thigh. Whatever was in there, it sure worked quickly, Sally thought, because it only took about two to three seconds until Moran´s hold loosened and she was free again.

Stepping out of the way, she watched as Moran crumpled down on the floor, all while remaining conscious and fully alert.

A paralyzer then.

"By the way, I´m the only one who gets to call him freak, you idiot!" She rasped and rubbed her neck. She could see John smile at that comment.

While the four men finally left Sherlock alone and moved towards Moran instead, she noticed that not only was John standing behind them, but Mycroft as well, gun in hand. And boy did he not look amused. He wouldn´t say much in front of the others, but later on when they would be alone she knew there´d be a real lecture. It was like with Sherlock, he pretended to not care when he was around others, but the one who knew him would see the tiny signs that he did.

Sally sighed. "Yeah I know, why the hell did I take on a men much bigger than me yada yada yada.."

"More like why did you take on a special forces soldier, but yeah, that's one thing what we definitely have to talk about." John answered and put his gun away as Moran was immobile now anyway. Seeing as Moran was being picked up by the guards and cuffed, he went over to Sally. "Let me take a look!" he said but it sounded more like an order and so Sally allowed him to prod at her neck and anywhere else she was hurting a bit.

"It´s all right, a few bumps and bruises, but you´ll live. Neck might hurt a bit the next few days though." He concluded while Sally nodded. She ´d already thought so anyway.

Mycroft had supervised Moran´s deportation from the room, but hadn´t said anything the whole time. Now before he could grumble at her, Sally did the only thing she could think of and gave him a small peck on the lips. While she would have loved to really kiss him and stay in his arms right now, she knew that this wasn´t the time and the place. And not only because Mycroft still didn´t like to show feelings when others were around.

Nope, Secret service headquarters weren´t cuddly love nests, she knew that. But since there hadn´t been anyone but her, Sherlock, John and Mycroft in the room right now, so she stole the kiss.

"You are not getting out of this lecture, Sally."

Sherlock had come over to them now and Sally was sure she didn´t imagine the tiny smile ghosting over his lips at his brother´s still kiss-stunned face. But that only lasted a second as John weighed in as well. "Exactly. Why the hell didn´t you talk to us? We could have worked together to take Moran down."

"Didn´t we?" She snapped but then held up her hands in defeat. " Yes, I´m sorry, but he was in the room with us all the time. And we had no idea what he´d planned so the best idea seemed to get you guys away from him."

Voices announced Anderson and Lestrade coming into the room while it was Sherlock`s turn to grumble. "The plan was for you to get out as well."

"So what, I at least persuaded everyone that we hated each other again and that convinced Moran." she grumbled back while Mycroft instantly added.

"If you had waited, I was just about to convince Simpson that there was something wrong with Norman, which he already had suspected anyway. But you run in and..."

She intercepted him, much louder than before. "I didn´t like to leave you and Sherlock alone under one roof with him and a dozen of trigger happy agents.."

"So you run and try to take down a trained combat soldier gone crazy? Alone?" John bellowed and then it was a loud whistle from Lestrade which made everyone stop.

"Guys, you behave like in quarrelling kids, talking all at once. How about we take a deep breath, okay?"

Four slightly guilty faces, trying to calm down looked at the detective or pretended to look around the room. Anderson grinned at them which nearly set off Sherlock again, but he caught himself as he noticed that there was no malice in that grin. The forensic worker seemed genuinely glad that everyone was okay.

"You are right, this is not the time and the place. The walls proabably have ears here." Sally sighed and settled down on one of the chairs, while the other did the same.

"Well since they have secret doors." John grinned at that, revealing the secret to his sudden appearance apparently, but Mycroft waved him off.

"No not here, secret door yes, but all watched by my men. We can talk as long as nobody comes into the room. "

John nodded at that, satisfied. "Good, then maybe someone can tell me how the hell that bastard is still alive? I thought he had died in that explosion in Rome, Sherlock?"

Sherlock looked grim at that. "That was my impression as well, yes. I still have no idea how he got out of the explosion, I barely made it and I had about 100 meters on him."

Sally sighed at that, remembering the story Sherlock had told her about Moran discovering him in Italy, about two weeks after they had met and took down the human traffickers. Moran had intended for Sherlock to die in that exploding warehouse he had set up, but luckily Sherlock had knocked him down and escaped. Just barely though.

She still didn´t like this story and was sure Sherlock hadn´t told them everything about it. She knew Moran had him in his claws for an hour or so and had tortured him, but what he had done, Sherlock wouldn´t say. She had taken great relief at the bastard´s supposed death though.

"I had no idea until he literally walked into the room and then I wasn´t sure if Simpson was in on it, so I tried to play along." shaking his head Sherlock set up to pace around the room, but John was quicker. As he was settled down next to the detective he put his hand on his lover´s shoulder, knowing well that anything more in the presence of Anderson and two of Mycroft´s men, who were watching the door now, would have been too much. Sherlock seemed to calm down a bit though.

"It´s all right, we got him now. No need to worry anymore." That was Sally and John nodded.

"That´s right. Mycroft can handle it now." A sigh from Sherlock, he obviously still was not happy about this but he would be all right.

"I will make sure that adequate measures will be taken, Sherlock. Especially since I want to know how Moran could infiltrate us. Simpson will have a lot to answer for as well." the older brother said, earning only a glare from Sherlock. Sally could tell they both were pissed.

John seemed to sense that as well and apparently decided to intervene before they would have had a go at each other. "Why did you only tell Sally anyway?" He asked. "You could have texted or called any of us. Or at least Mycroft?"

"My brother is notorious for leaving his phone in his office when he is here. Normally Anthea carries it after him, but as she was with me, well.." the detective smirked and this time Mycroft glared at him. " As for the rest, I was sure Moran would be at least monitoring yours and Lestrade´s phone. Anderson hasn´t his with him today, as the new constable from the drugs unit was so distracting that he left it in the interrogation room." Anderson tried to glare, but it was more of a blush really, so Sherlock went on. "So there was only one option."

John smiled gently. "That and you wanted to know what Moran wanted with Sally, yes?"

Only a huff from Sherlock but the meaning was clear. Holmes brothers could be quite possessive of their friends and loved ones it seemed.

Sally turned towards John and they both shared a grin.

"What was it anyway that Sherlock had you all pissed about?" the Doctor enquired and Sally sighed.

"The ususal. He did steal evidence again and I only realised it today. The court case is in two days, Sherlock, so I still need it back." She addressed the consulting detective, who mumbled something in response which none of them could understand. "Just give it back. If you are good I might give it to you for experiments after, okay?"

That seemed to satisfy him a little bit more, yet he was still grumbling to himself.

"What the hell do you want with a dried human ear anyway?" She asked and could see how John rolled his eyes at that. "I still can´t believe the guy kept it after he cut it off his friend while he was drunk. People these days. They get weirder and weirder."

Everyone in the room except the Holmes seemed to shudder with her about that. But Sally hadn´t expected anything else.

Then Sherlock turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised.„Miscarriage Sally, really?"

Sally grumbled at the change of theme. „So what? I needed something to make them shut up. Especially John." She turned towards him. „Sorry John."

John just nodded and so she turned back to Sherlock again.

„That´s the first thing which came to my mind. Of course your highness would have come up with something much better." she sighed.

Sherlock smiled at that, while she grimaced at him. „Still can´t believe they actually believed me." Had they really believed Sherlock being capable of that or had they seen through the act?

„Oh come on, even I saw that this was rubbish. There´s no way you could have been pregnant." Anderson announced and made everyone in the room turn towards him.

Now it was Sally´s turn to raise her eyebrows. „How so?"

„Well that´s easy. Without a man there can´t be a baby and its not like Holmes here would have gotten you pregnant just by talking."

That was...

Sherlock and Sally first looked at Anderson, then at each other, only to burst out laughing.

„Okay, you´re right about him Sherlock, I give it to you." Sally said and started giggling again.

„Well Anderson, it seems you have the wrong Holmes. If anyone would have gotten her pregnant it would have been his brother." Greg grinned as well, making the forensic scientist turn at Mycroft, now eyes even more wide.

„What? Huh? How?" he managed and that set everyone in the room off again.

It didn´t last long as suddenly Sherlock clutched his nose, his hand coming away bloody once more. While John gave him a handkerchief and tried his best to examine it, the consulting detective turned to Sally.

„Don´t you dare to look guilty about this Sally." he told her gruffly and then added „You hit like a girl by the way."

Sally huffed, though she was clearly not happy. „ 's why you had to dare me, right?"

Making sure Sherlock would hold still and shut up long enough for John to examine him, Mycroft took hold of his brother and decided to tell everyone else in the room who wasn´t understanding what Sally had been saying.

„No Sherlock, let John have a look. I will explain." He turned to others, Sherlock still in his grip who surprisingly complied just this once. Wonders would never cease.

„These two were signing all the time. Comunicating through sign language. It took me a bit to figure it out, as it wasn´t any of the languages I´d had learned but..."

„It´s self invented, something we tried to solve a cold case." Sally contributed and smiled „Pretty easily actually. A sign for every letter of the alphabet."

„Ah that explains it. Anyway, the exact phrase my brother signed to her before he got hit was: Harder you dumb wit. You hit like a schoolgirl anyway."

That set John off and he laughed. „Dumb wit? Sherlock you have to work on your insults. But anyway, I can give the all clear: the nose is not broken. The hit just caused a vessel to burst which can look rather ugly but is harmless. It can happen as well when you blow your nose too hard for example. So no need to feel guilty."

Sally seemed to be relieved at that though, while Sherlock grumbled. „Yeah right. But the next time I tell you to take them and get out of here, you do that. We´ve been lucky how this went. If Moran would have gotten the idea that..."

He didn´t get any further as the door opened rather hastily and Anthea entered the room, all out of breath. „Sir we have a problem. Moran escaped, he must have had some help here in the building."

That was the first time Sally, John and the others heard Sherlock cuss like a sailor.

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Thoughts?


	8. Chapter 8

**Last Chapter**

It was later when they were in 221b, safely protected by Mycroft's men, that Sally remembered her gift for Sherlock. Anderson, Harry and even Mrs. Hudson had been brought to Mycroft´s house where they were safe with him and Anthea, but Sherlock had refused to run and so the rest of them had decided stay with him. Even though she would have loved to stay with Mycroft, she knew it wouldn´t have been fair to leave John and Greg alone with Sherlock, as agitated as he was. Not that he would ever admit that. He would shout at everyone, run around and start things, only to forget them a second later, seemingly having a better idea.

It was simply that Sherlock was afraid, and that told Sally that she should be afraid of Moran as well. But not only that, also a glance at the two murders he had committed and tried to put on Sherlock, told her that. The sheer brutality of them alone. Not to mention the few details in the file on him, which Mycroft gave her after she had asked for it, not backing off until she was allowed to see it.

No, Moran was definitely not a nice guy, there was no way around that. That and he was pissed that his boss was dead. He probably believed Sherlock had murdered him, which couldn´t have been further from the truth as Moriarty had offed himself, but that was the thing with true Psychopaths: they were living in their own world and would never listen.

And if they set to destroy someone, they would never stop.

Today according to Sherlock he had just played with them. Walking into the MI6 like that, pretending to be one of them; all of this just had been a game. It wouldn´t have been that bad if he wouldn´t have gotten new information. The surprise on his face when she turned out to be Sherlock`s ally had been genuine. Moran really hadn´t had any idea about that. But this gave him another person to aim for when he wanted to hurt Sherlock.

Sally didn´t regret her actions though. She´d have regretted them more if she left Sherlock and Mycroft to their own. John probably understood her in that regard and thought the same.

Being afraid of someone didn´t mean that she´d run after all. It would just make her more cautious.

A quick glance told her, that it was already past midnight and therefore Christmas Eve. Seeing that they all, but especially Sherlock, would need something to raise their spirits- Moran be damned- she rummaged in her bag for it and walked over to Sherlock, her present in hand.

„I found something." She stated and smiled. „ And I thought it would make a great gift for Christmas."

Sherlock snorted, still grumbling about the fact that Moran was again free, but Sally wouldn´t have it. „And you are never going to believe it." she added and Sherlock looked doubtful for a second, but then took the photo from her, inspecting it more thoroughly.

The small gasp that followed was anticipated by Sally, but not by anyone else and soon everyone was crowded around the picture.

„Is that..?" John asked as he realized what he was looking at and Sherlock and Sally just nodded. „Wow. That´s.." he stopped again, seemingly unsure what to say and Sally could relate.

It had been a few days ago, when her old photo album had fallen into her hands. What exactly had made her open it and look at the pictures again, she would never know, but it hadn´t taken her long to find this picture. The little girl in the foreground was grinning above all ears, looking directly at the camera. But that wasn´t what was important about the picture. It was rather what was in the background, more particularly behind her on the stairs, where two women were pictured, coming around the corner, being slightly blurry as they were moving. The two women, one of which had been her neighbour and the other she now knew from photos as Grandma Holmes, were accompanied by a little, curly haired boy. Sherlock was in front of them, looking directly at the camera, thus noticing that Sally´s mum was taking a photo of her daughter, but not caring that he was pictured as well.

Back then, Sally remembered, her mum had been slightly annoyed by the unwanted background, but had kept the picture as she had liked little Sally´s grin so much. Sally had cared, as she hated having her picture taken anyway and that only meant that there would be a need of more.

But today Sally was glad about that. She had even made a copy of the picture herself and put it into her wallet, to remind her that sometimes there were no coincidences. Sometimes there were things or people who simply were fate.

And after finding this photo, she was sure of it. She and Sherlock were fate. All the things that happened to them. The similar childhood traumas by the same man, them meeting again in later life and so on.

They were fate.

Bound to happen.

And somehow this even made her feel better.

Judging by the slight smile Sherlock was giving her, while the rest of them were still wondering about the photo, he seemed to agree.

Fate. That´s what it was.

And they were damn ready for anywhere it would lead them.

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So this has come to an end once more. To tell you the truth this story wasn´t planned, it was supposed to be Spero melior and a sequel, but Moran needed to introduce himself properly so this came out instead. I hope you guys enjoyed the ride and might be in for a third one?

Thanks go to all readers and especially the reviewers who made me go on with writing and of course to the ever rocking beta sevenpercent!


	9. Chapter 9

Hey everyone. There is a sequel now called **Fight, for you may know peace.**

you can find it on my profile

Have fun reading!

~kessie


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